


Words Behind Which We Hide Our Sins

by TheCollierRecruit (StrangerAtTheWindow)



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen, Sharpe - All Media Types, Sharpe Series - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/M, Napoleonic Wars, Not Beta Read, Regency, Starts pre-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangerAtTheWindow/pseuds/TheCollierRecruit
Summary: In the summer before Mr. Bingley lets Netherfield Park, another wealthy gentleman by the name of Peter d'Alembord moves into the neighbourhood to escape a scandalous affair back in London. His self-imposed exile is disrupted when he is reacquainted with his childhood friends: Elizabeth Bennet and Charlotte Lucas.
Relationships: Charlotte Lucas/Peter d'Alembord, Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Words Behind Which We Hide Our Sins

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to Jane Austen and Bernard Cornwell, respectively.
> 
> I merely play merry hell with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I heard a pretty good cover of John Tams' version of "Over the Hills and Far Away" and it more or less inspired me the premise for this.
> 
> *CAVEAT EMPTOR* : This story does not feature Richard Sharpe or any of the Chosen Men. Not THIS story, at least.

**PART** **ONE:** **August –** **September** **1811**

* * *

“ _Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.”_

_\- Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen_

* * *

**C** **hapter** **1** ****

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

However little known the history or circumstances of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters. Yet there were some who held no illusions that such a man would be so liberal in their fancy as to choose any daughter, let alone one lacking any virtue of beauty or grace.

“Oh, my dear Charlotte!” Her mother said one morning at breakfast. “I suppose you’ve not yet heard the latest gossip.”

“Gossip mama?” While she held the utmost respect for her, Charlotte had always found her mother’s penchant for gossip to be a source of amusement.

“I heard it straight from Mrs. Phillips herself the other day. It would appear that Mrs. Massey’s nephew has recently returned to Hertfordshire.”

“Her nephew? You mean Peter?” Charlotte asked. “Peter d’Alembord?”

Lady Lucas’s effusive delight at her daughter’s recollection was more than enough confirmation for Charlotte.

“Yes, the very same! Apparently his carriage arrived at Trenton Hill this past Thursday night. Mrs. Long had heard from her maid, who in turn had heard from one of the Trenton stewards that his return was only announced the day before his arrival.”

She didn’t quite know how to feel about the news. It had been far too long since she had last seen Peter d’Alembord. The last she had seen of him had been when her, Lizzie, and Jane had bid farewell to him from his uncle’s home at Netherfield. She had been ten and four at the time, and he had just only turned twelve. As she recalled those fond memories, her sister Maria had asked who the gentleman was.

“Oh, I forget Maria just how young you were when Peter was here last. Peter d’Alembord is the second son of a very wealthy gentleman from Essex. He and his family would spend their summers with his uncle, the late Mr. d’Alembord, over at Netherfield Park.”

Putting her memories aside, Charlotte asked, “Is that why he has returned mama? Has he come to let Netherfield again?”

“It would appear so. He was seen riding to the property with Mr. Morris himself, and he was said to be in a most agreeable spirit. I should expect to hear news of Netherfield’s new master soon.”

“Will Papa call on him? If Charlotte is already acquainted with him, it would be most improper if we don’t.”

“Rest assured, I have already asked your father to act as such the minute he hears new of Mr. d’Alembord’s residency.”

“Mama, you mustn’t be presumptuous. We do not know if Mr. d’Alembord truly desires to take up Netherfield, or indeed if he plans on staying in Hertfordshire at all.”

“Why else would he go to Netherfield? It’s not as if he can’t afford it. He’s made quite a fortune for himself in the textile industry.”

“How much, mama?” One of her younger sisters asked.

“Four-thousand a year... at least!”

“Mama, we’ve yet to so much as see the gentleman!” Charlotte exclaimed. “It would be terribly rude to be so presumptuous as to assume he is seeking a wife.”

“Oh, come now Charlotte! I had thought that you would be more excited upon hearing this news. You two were the closest of friends once.”

“We were children, Mama. And if you recall he was also shared such an acquaintance with Jane and Eliza.”

Her mother would not leave the matter alone as she ignored her daughter’s comments. “And he is single too, you know.”

At those words her younger sisters were filled with an energy as they began to pester their mother with questions about their potential new neighbor. The rest of the talk over breakfast was filled with chatter and inquiries to his wealth, status, and handsomeness being banded about in due exuberance.

Charlotte could do little but roll her eyes at her sister’s antics, for she could tell why her mother had deigned to inform her of her old friend’s return. If she could manage to turn the young man’s head toward her daughter, then her dearest Charlotte would be saved from the ravages of spinsterhood. And however distasteful the thought of her mother potentially manipulating her childhood friend in such a way, she could not blame her entirely. At the age of twenty-seven, Charlotte Lucas remained unwed and it would appear that she was to remain so for the immediate future, for she had no suitors, no eligible bachelors chasing her hand. And while her mother certainly did not lay the blame on her for her spinsterhood, she was worried nevertheless for her daughter’s future.

For a woman like Charlotte, options were limited. And as far as Lady Lucas was concerned, any advantage that would lead to even a potential courtship would be utilized in securing her daughter’s future.

More on Charlotte’s mind, however, was the fact that her childhood friend had returned to Hertfordshire after nearly thirteen years away. He was but a boy last she saw of him, and a very shy one at that. Yet despite his reticence he was always keen to play with her, Lizzy, and Jane and not with the other boys from the village. In the years since his departure, she had figured that he had been at least half-in love with one of the Bennet sisters. And yet after so close a friendship he had neglected to write to any of them. It was almost as if he had disappeared from the world entirely.

_After having been so long away, what has driven him to return now?_

Such thoughts lingered in Charlotte’s mind as she decided to call on Lizzie and Jane for the afternoon. Making her way up the path through to Longbourn, the Bennet family estate, she could not hear the exuberant goings on that was so typical of the Bennet family, but she could very well see through the glass windows all the frantic movements that passed through the household. She suspected that much of the energy she had witnessed was due to the same news that had so excited her own family that morning.

Upon arriving at the doorstep she was let inside and had barely entered the drawing room when she could hear the voices of the two younger Bennet sisters.

“Oh, but Mama! It’s not fair! Why does Kitty get to have a new dress but I don’t?” Lydia Bennet cried out, trailing behind her mother.

“Because you ruined the dress that Aunt Gardiner gave me for Christmas!” Was the response of her sister, Catherine Bennet.

“Oh, girls! Girls!” Their mother implored, as servants crisscrossed the hallway where her daughters had briefly besieged her before she managed to tail Mr. Bennet into his study.

Laughing silently to herself at the Bennet family’s usual spirited antics, she was greeted by the sight of her best friend Elizabeth Bennet. At seven years her junior, Elizabeth Bennet has retained the status of her closest friend bar none.

“Charlotte!”

“Lizzy!”

She quickly greeted her friend as the cacophony of the Bennet family’s household antics grew in volume.

“I hesitate to ask, but is everything alright?”

“Of course. Nothing so serious.” Lizzy responded. “Just Mama’s usual dramatics whenever an eligible bachelor makes his immediate presence known.”

Her friend’s words were confirmed with Mrs. Bennet’s muffled remarks of “four thousand a year!”, “acquainted with Jane and Lizzy!”, and “Netherfield Park!” being heard in Mr. Bennet’s study. Charlotte attempted to suppress a smile at Mrs. Bennet’s excitement, but failed when she saw Lizzy rolling her eyes at her mother’s words.

Leading them into the drawing room, for the hope of escaping the chaos of the rest of Longbourn, she greeted the other Bennet sisters, Jane and Mary. Mary had given Charlotte a quick curtsy before returning to her pianoforte, and Jane gave her a small hug abandoning her attentions to the newspaper.

“Were you reading the news to Mary again? Oh, don’t let us interrupt.” Lizzy said to Jane. “We were only hoping for an escape from Kitty and Lydia’s antics.”

“I understand, Lizzy.” Jane smiled as she folded up the newspaper. “But I must confess that I was seeking the same reprieve.”

“Is there so little occurring in the world that our presence is enough to draw you away from the paper?”

“Of course not, it’s that… rather…”

“Our sister has found herself enraptured by a certain story.” Mary interrupted with a hint of disapproval. “A flattering article about an officer returned from the war.”

The revelation seemed to confirm itself by the colouring on Jane’s cheeks. Quickly grabbing the newspaper, Lizzy opened it and held it up to read. Her eyes perused the pages of The Morning Chronicle, a prominent newspaper of the Town, until she spotted one of the headlining stories. It talked of a captain from one of the Viscount Wellington’s regiments, dubbed as the _‘_ _Hero of the Field of Talavera’_ , and how his bravery led him to capture one of Bonaparte’s prized Imperial Eagles from the hands of the French.

“Quite flattering indeed.” Elizabeth smiled at her sister. “Have you developed a tender then for this Captain Sharpe?”

“Of course, not.” Jane blushed. “I was merely compelled by the hardships that our men in service must endure.”

“Or perhaps you were merely compelled by his _‘_ _scarred face and_ _tanned_ _complexion,_ _united_ _in perfect juxtaposition_ _with his_ _golden_ _hair_ _so_ _as_ _to complete his heroic countenance’_?” Elizabeth said, quoting the newspaper and embarrassing her sister further.

“Lizzy!” Jane exclaimed sheepishly, her face red with embarrassment.

“Oh, my dearest sister! You know I only tease.” She smiled fondly at Jane’s blush.

“I must confess to finding your admiration for such a man to be a surprise.” Charlotte said. “I would have expected such a fancy from Lydia.”

“Lydia has already declared her affections for such a hero, and with more fervor than I.” Jane responded. “She swears that only an officer in the finest red coat will do for her.”

“Oh! Speaking of my sisters, I hope you don’t mind if Kitty and Lydia join us.” Elizabeth said as she turned to Charlotte. “They’ve been in want of an excuse to visit the village shops and I daresay that Mr. d’Alembord’s return is sufficient reason for them.”

“I don’t mind.” Charlotte smiled. “Jane, Mary, will you be joining us?”

“I dearly wish I could, but Mama has already asked me to join her when she calls on Mrs. Reed.” Jane answered. “Another time perhaps.”

“I cannot today. I received some new sheet music yesterday and I’m inclined to practice.” Mary replied.

Before long, Lydia and Kitty were finally ready to join them and they set off down the road to the village. A quick stop at Lucas Lodge saw Kitty calling on Maria Lucas to join them, much to Lydia’s dismay at the wait. They were halfway to town, at a leisurely pace. Charlotte and Elizabeth had fallen into step a few paces behind Kitty, Lydia, and Maria when the two began reminiscing about their childhood days together with their long-lost friend.

“He was always the shyest little thing I had ever seen.” Elizabeth said. “I recall there were times where he would make Jane seem positively garrulous.”

“Of course it was his reticent nature that made him seem as much,” Charlotte agreed with mirth, “And it had not to do at all with the energetic little girl who would dare her friends to race her up at Oakham Mount.”

Elizabeth could only give a most unladylike scoff at her friend’s teasing. As a child she had been the most exuberant out of their small circle of friends. And with her being the youngest of three, saying nothing of how young Peter was the only boy to ever spend any time with them, they had attracted all sorts of odd looks from the people of Meryton to their own parents.

“You mean to tease me Charlotte, but your barbs do little.” She declared. “Besides, if memory serves me correctly, he remained unmoved by my challenges.”

“Yes, I remember. He would always lag behind us.”

“I had thought once or twice that he was merely looking for an avenue of escape, but his fidelity to us was always unshakable.”

“Do you think he would still find enjoyment in our company?” Charlotte pondered.

At her question, Elizabeth hesitated. She had found herself pondering the same question since their mother had told her and Jane the news of the gentleman’s return. The pace of life in the country lent itself to a seemingly unfailing familiarity with one’s friends and neighbors. All of her childhood friends remained close despite the growing distances that came with maturity and adulthood. Even Charlotte’s brother John had retained a familiar acquaintance with the Bennet daughters despite his service in the navy keeping him away from Hertfordshire.

“In truth, I cannot say for certain.” She began tentatively. “An impassioned mind would say that his lack of correspondence is indication that he no longer desires our friendship.”

“And what of a balanced mind?” Charlotte mockingly inquired.

“A _balanced_ mind would say that there are any number of reasons why he should fail to keep in contact with us, and that we should not hold such offense against him without understanding his reasoning.” Elizabeth answered. “And I suppose from your smirk that you’ve already assigned which of us holds the more impassioned disposition?”

“Not at all!” Her friend teased heartily. “After all, it would not do to discredit a mind so esteemed as Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s.”

“Oh! You are in a spirited mood today, Charlotte!”

The two girls giggled as their younger sisters seemed to share a private joke of their own, for their laughter seemed to exceed theirs in tone. Soon the village was in sight, with all its sights and sounds distracting them from their conversation. It was not until they reached Mr. Wilson’s shop that they resumed their earlier speculations.

“Do you think he has changed much since we have last parted?” Elizabeth asked, straining to keep at least one eye focused on her sisters. “In temperament, I mean.”

“I expect so Lizzy. Twelve years is a long time.” Charlotte answered. “We do not know what changes have occurred in his character since we saw him last.”

“True, but if his hesitance to call on either of us has proven anything, it’s that he still retains some streak of his reticent nature.”

At Lizzy’s declaration, Charlotte could only shake her head, although she found herself inclined with her friend. If he had truly been in the country since last Thursday, surely he would formally announce his arrival to them rather than let the local gossips declare his presence.

“More like he is a great dullard if he has yet to call on us.” Lydia piped up from behind a wall of fabric that Maria held up.

“Lydia! It’s terribly impolite to speak of someone in such a way,” Elizabeth chastised, “least of all someone you have yet to meet!”

“Oh, but Lizzy! We had just ran into Beverly – you know, Mrs. Massey’s maid – and she told us that Mr. d’Alembord had been staying at Trenton for at least a month!”

“A month? Are you sure?”

“Certainly! She says that Mrs. Massey had sworn all of her staff to secrecy about her nephew’s return. Apparently he’d gotten caught in some sort of scandal, and has decided to hide away with his aunt until he can return to town.”

“It’s terribly exciting, isn’t it Lizzy?” Kitty added. “What do you suppose he’s hiding from?”

“A lady, doubtless. For such a gentleman to hide out from the _ton_ , it _has_ to be.”

“Lydia!”

Elizabeth scolded her sister who could only giggle at the impertinence, with Kitty and Maria following the younger girl in suit.

Unbeknownst to them, rumors about the newest eligible bachelor had already began to take hold of the village denizens. The gossiping matrons of Meryton had already, through their sources amongst their staff and friends alike, had parsed out all they could of Peter d’Alembord. If such rumors were to be believed, he had indeed been caught in the middle of a love affair according to Mrs. Long. The gossip had only grew in fervor when it was discovered by Mrs. Phillips that the still-absent gentleman was one of two suitors who had vied for the hand of one of the most beautiful socialites of the _ton_ , despite her status a married woman.

While this news managed to hamper any initial excitement for the hopeful mammas that their daughters might wed a rich, young man, the morbid curiosity for Mr. D’Alembord’s salacious affair still held its grip amongst the townsfolk.

And despite the news of his scandal, there were still one or two hopeful families who would not entirely discount their approval should the possibility that one of their daughters suit his fancy emerge.

Not that such _proper_ and _genteel_ folk would ever admit as much.


End file.
